The Therapist
by dharmadown
Summary: Tegan meets the woman of her dreams, an older woman named Sara; but there's something about her that's more complicated than just the age difference. (Quinlove, AU)
1. Chapter 1

Death is the great equalizer. It's practically the only thing that every human being have in common. It is the most natural thing in this world, if you don't succumb to death, you're doomed- that's what wise men would say.

I think it's the most painful thing anyone will have to go through; not their own death, but the loss of a loved one. I don't know how people carry on like nothing happened, as if the person they lost never lived. I once told myself that if someone close to me dies, I would never cry and I would never feel bad. I have come to accept, that death comes to everyone, and I believe that dying would give satisfaction to a person's life- not because they lost someone, but because their loved one's life has taken its course and lived the life they were destined to fulfill.

But I'm throwing that belief down the dump today.

I hardly slept for the past 4 days since Mom died, I've been contemplating, asking the universe, and searching inside my head, reasons why my Mom would leave us too soon. being 40 is not even old enough for death- I'm not saying I would feel less of a remorse if she dies at an older age, but I kind of wish we were able to spend more time with her. I would love her to see me graduate, I want her to meet my future family, I want her to feel proud of me. I'm 16 and all I've done was win an art competition, and have my parents spend money enough to feed the homeless for a year in boarding school, just to keep me off trouble, if I can call that an achievement.

Of all the troubles I've been involved, my mom was the only one who understood me, and defended me from all who judged me, she was my savior, and my inspiration. I wanted to be better, not for myself, but for my Mom. It's kind of unthinkable to even wish that she and Dad would divorce, because for the record, we can live better off without him. He's cheated on Mom for years, spent more of his time at the casinos, than have dinner with her, he'd spend more money on his vices that he would on our electric bill. Yes, he's got the money to waste, but along with that, my Mom fell ill to his cold shoulder.

As the chauffer parked my car behind my dad's, at the cemetery, I felt a lump on my throat that hurt like a knife twisting my flesh.. I want to throw up, cry and run away. I've grown used to seeing my Mom inside a coffin, but sending her 6 feet under this earth is just too much for me.

I can't do it.

I closed my eyes and clenched my hands together, I prayed- prayed real hard to a God unknown to me, to bring everything back.. I'm not ready for it, I'm just not going to give up my Mom. Never.

"Tegan, let's go." I jerked in surprise as my Dad open my door. I looked up at him, our faces wet in tears and our eyes swollen from crying- I never really looked at my Dad since Mom died- it was a sight to see him feel this sad. It was almost satisfying to know that he too, is suffering.

I nodded and wiped my face dry with my bare hands; and left the car with a heavy heart. I let out a sigh before I close my door as my Dad grab my hands. I almost jerked to pull it away, but I felt his sincerity- I felt how sorry he was for himself, and I just now, began to understand that he is feeling regret.

We walked towards Mom's grave, where everyone was waiting to start the funeral service; I irked to the sight of her coffin on top of the lever that will bring her towards the pit, I also felt Dad hold on tighter to my hand. We weren't talking- we didn't talk since he told me what happened to mom. I'm not ready to blame him just yet- we're both grieving, and I know lashing out will not help shed the pain.

We sat in front of the visitors, right in the middle of the service. Everyone looked sad, and everyone gave a crooked smile in greeting, and recognition that the widowed family is there. I have never felt this much apathy in my life- I almost felt bad that people have to be sad around us like this. It's fucking sick though, to see how those people who used to gossip about my family was there, sending their condolences. Of all the scandals we've been through, I never thought people are still at least, paying respect to my Mom. Well, I would understand cause my Mom never really did anything, and these people have pitied her, for being a wife who just couldn't handle her husband's womanizing, and drug and alcohol consumption.

As I wait out for the pastor to speak, I can feel a weight of eyes staring me down; I looked behind me and only saw everyone wearing their sunglasses on; I scoffed and shook my head as I turn my head back front- as if these people were even grieving. We the family, for one, aren't even covering our grief, but these people who barely know my Mom's real name are acting as if they've cried their eyes out for days- it's pretentious, and I think it's just ridiculous.

After we buried Mom, people almost lined up to give us their condolences; but I didn't know how to respond. I don't know if I should thank them, or if I should give them a smile in appreciation that they're asses are sorry for us, more than they already are. Dad noticed I wasn't feeling a little too good, from all the people bombarding us- so he excused us. He grabbed me by the shoulder and walked me out of the small crowd.

"you don't have to talk to all these people, dear. You can run along if you want, unwind uh.. maybe go home first. I still need to arrange something with the funeral service" he said in a low tone.

I just nodded, and looked up at him; Dad smiled, but his eyes filled up with tears in seconds and he just covered his face. I didn't know what to say- I didn't want to speak, so I just went ahead and embraced him for the first time.

"I want to stay, Dad." I said while I rest my head on his chest, as he wrap his arms around me too. Those were the first words that came out of my mouth, for the past 4 days. But those words were more than enough to break my Father down into tears.

"I'm sorry Tegan.." He said, sobbing real hard.

"it's okay Dad, I wanted to be here for Mom, for the last time." I said, embracing my Dad tighter.

"I'm so sorry for everything." he said. I felt Dad's weight getting heavy on me, and I'm starting to feel as if I'm going to fall down.

"hey Dad, come on.. we're falling down.." I said, but just as I was about to pull away from him, my Dad passed out.

"James! help!" I called on our chauffer. People ran over to us upon seeing what happened and one of his friends who happen to be a physician was luckily, there with us.

"what happened?" he asked as he kneel down with me to check my Dad's pulse.

he obviously passed out, moron

"he hasn't had any sleep for days, he's obviously exhausted." I said, trying to resist my sarcasm to take over.

"Jesus Christ.. Robert, what are you doing to yourself.. call an ambulance. I have an oxygen can on my car, I'll just go get it." he said before he ran towards his car.

Aunt Jenny quickly looked over Dad as I immediately called 911.

This is just too much for a day, and I feel like I'm about to pass out, myself.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days after Mom's funeral and the incident in the cemetery, I talked Dad into getting me out of boarding school, so I can spend time with him at home- he resisted, but came around when I told him I was doing it for him. I couldn't stand seeing him like that- he's taken a bereavement leave from the business and entrusted my uncles to take over while he's gone, he was devastated; we were both devastated.

We both struggled, being 16 and having to take care of my widowed father wasn't how I sought my life to be. But picking up his bottles after long hours of drinking, tucking him in on the couch every night, and having to comfort him in the middle of the night in his nightmares has become a habit for me too. I was doing better accepting my Mom's death than it is for him. He was the reason why Mom committed suicide, and he just couldn't forgive himself. We would fight during some nights if I ask him to stop drinking, but he just can't seem to get it together.

Aunt Jenny, one of my Mom's siblings, had to get into the picture upon realizing what was happening. I was a minor, and there are possibilities of my Dad losing custody, so she had to step in and help us out. She helped Dad get into rehab and counseling, and I didn't escape the therapy either. I may be doing a better job in coping with my mother's death, but I'm just as down as he is.

2 years have passed, and I have never been better since, but It's been the longest 2 years of our lives, having to cope with our loss, and our hypercritical neighbors.

Dad changed a lot since coming out of rehab, he was always there for me, he stopped with the drugs and the alcohol, and he's doing better with the business. I was surprised, and I too was very proud of him for sticking up to it.

We bonded more often, and we've never been closer- I was really happy about how it all turned out, despite Mom not being around. I'm sure she's happy, wherever she is, to see me and Dad getting along like this. People consider it as good riddance, and yes, I must admit that I find my Mom to be my guardian angel. I guess that was her purpose, to be a wake up call for my Father, to stop his habits- but somewhere in my heart I still feel anger towards him, for having to wait for Mom to die before he realizes that he is wasting his life away. Although we've come to accept her death, it still hurts when I get reminded that I will never get to see her again- there are times that I would just pass by our kitchen in the afternoon to get some water and end up crying because I will never get to see that familiar scene of watching my Mom in the kitchen preparing dinner every night. The simplest thing is now unbearably impossible- just smelling her favorite scent of air freshener while I walk by the hallway leading to their bedroom sends me on a crying spree too.

And then, there's her things lying around her dresser in their bedroom- which Dad didn't touch since.

Apparently, he never slept in their bedroom since Mom's death. He made one of our guest rooms his own personal bedroom, and was too weak to even spend more than five minutes in there without breaking down; this made it even harder for us to have him finish therapy. He's still seeing his therapist to this day, while I've finished my sessions and were able to somehow control my grievances- he's getting better, but I hope recovers from it fully.

My therapist said that if I replace the idea of loss with good memories I had with my Mom, it would help me get over- and by thinking about what my future would be like, and how proud my Mom would have been if she was still alive, was what motivated me to stay in school, and be better. So after graduating highschool, I decided to straight to college.

Acceptance letters flew in on a tidal wave, and caught me and Dad by surprise, and he couldn't be any more proud that I'm attending UCLA, where both he and Mom went to-and where they first met.

2 days to the start of the first semester, and for the 2nd time, I'd be spending hours at the cemetery for Mom and Dad's wedding anniversary. Dad and I would go here, and visit her instead of actually going out and celebrating. It just doesn't feel right not "celebrating" it. Today was also Dad's first day for an extended session with his therapist- and he wanted me to come. He's been really acting weird all day, I guess maybe because I'll be leaving fr college tomorrow, and for the first time in 2 years, I'll be living far from him. It's only a 3 hour drive, but still, I bet he's gonna have a hard time letting me go.

"Mr. Quin? we're ready for you." the receptionist called from her desk as soon as she hung up the phone with dad's therapist.

We got up in unison and walked in to the office; he seemed a little too nervous today- I honestly have never seen him like this ever. For the past hour he didn't speak to me, he was too busy with his phone, and whenever we pass by a mirror, he just couldn't stop himself from looking at it, and he always made sure his suit is looking fine.

I'm just utterly confused; until I saw his therapist.

When we got in, she was sitting behind her desk, looking through her notepad, but quickly looked up at us once we entered her office. She gave us a smile as she stood up to reach her hands over to me; I didn't know what to do with it- I was caught a bit off guard and at that second and all I could think of was how pretty this doctor was.

"Hi, you must be Tegan?" she said in enthusiasm. Not only was I confused as to how someone who looks so young can be this successful of a psychotherapist, but I was a bit in awe that she knows me, and the way she said was how an old friend would have said it with such exhilaration.

I jerked, and suddenly remembered that being a civil human being, I should take her hand shake it. I immediately wiped my sweaty palms to the seams of my shirt and reached out for her hand- and right that very second our skin touched, I felt a twist of chills crawl up on my arm. Should I pull away first? am I shaking her hand too rapidly? am I holding on it too tight? I was like a mad dog smiling from ear to ear, and I feel like a fool for staring at her the whole time, all I could do was nod to her question.

"Tegan this is Dr. Sara Storey." Dad said from behind me.

The Doctor just smiled back and as she slowly pull her hands back "you can take that chair beside your Dad, just make yourself comfortable."

I just turned around and walked over to my Dad, still with that crazy smile on; and at that moment I understood how he was feeling.

I always knew I was different, in terms of attraction towards the opposite sex- I was never fascinated by men- in the aspect of relationship, and even having to think of kissing a guy always gives my stomach an unpleasant turn. I've always liked girls, and no one else knew but myself; as in I never told anyone about it, not even my bestfriend- but not ever have I felt the same way of fascination towards someone I just met- specifically an older woman.

I sat back and exhaled as I try hard to calm myself down. I have no idea why I'm here with Dad, but whatever that reason is, I'm pretty sure Dad needed me there.

"Tegan, you can relax, I'm not gonna eat you alive" Dr. Storey said jokingly. I gave a short chuckle in response (but I'm giggling because of the scenes playing in my head right now)

calm down, you're Dad is here, and Sara is his therapist-be proper

"sorry.. I'm just.. a little nervous, I mean Dad never told me about coming here"

Dr. Storey just grinned at my awkwardness- Jesus Christ she's adorable- the way she talks, smiles and sweeps her bangs behind her ears, and thank God for her short hair, I can totally see her collar bone (which, in a weird way, turns me on) - she was wearing a mustard sweatshirt that's really not exposing so much, but her neck is enough to bring me some place else- and I want to see more. I swallowed as I clench onto the seams of my sleeves as I lean my palms on my knees; I just couldn't stop fidgetting.

"you want some tea, dear?" Dad asked as he hold my hand. I jerked and sighed in nervousness- I just couldn't calm myself down. This is bad- really bad- I'm too obvious; but I totally needed that tea.

"yes" I looked up and saw Dr. Storey staring down at me with a rather devilish smile, or maybe that's just me. "please.." I said, shaking my dirty ideas off.

Dad's therapy went well; he was definitely doing great with it, not giving Dr. Storey any hard time from getting the answers she needed, and it looked like Dad's responses were just the ones she was looking for. The whole hour I was just sitting in one corner, trying not to consume all my tea that has gone cold, just so I can keep myself busy and not doze of.

"Tegan, your Dad's therapy ends here, but I need you to stay for a while, okay?" The hair at the back of my neck raised; just how will I manage to hide my excitement for staying in a room alone with her, without giving it away? I darted a look over to my dad, and looked as if asking him if I really had to stay.

Dad smiled. He knew, I can feel it.

"do you want me to go get dinner while you guys talk? I'll be back in an hour or so.." I smiled back at dad and nodded. I had to keep my mouth shut, I don't wanna say anything to mess this up.

In the middle of Dad leaving the room, I was half hearted in staying, Dr. Storey is definitely going to eat me up alive, and by the moment Dad closed the door, I gave one last sip of my cold tea before I transferred seats, near the desk.

She stood up and walked towards me "Tegan, it's nice to finally meet you!" she said, again with that intoxicating grin. I flinched to the sight of her skin tight, black jeans; if I didn't know she was a psychotherapist, and saw her in the street, I would think she's a senior in my school. I may have been staring at her for the past hour now, but I"m still astonished of how youthful she looks- the sweater, the jeans, the oxfords and the hair- definitely not how I would dress up, cause I'm just too bad at fashion- but I can tell she's obviously in the know of the trend.

I bit my lip as she said those words, I guess dad just couldn't shut himself up about her only child- but it made me feel excited, almost flattered.

"well it's nice to finally meet you too, Doctor." That was the best I could come up with. Darn it.

"Please, call me Sara."

I got goosebumps again; it's too far fetched, but I'm thinking she wants to build up something personal between the 2 of us.

"okay then.. Sara." I said, stopping myself from smiling too hard from all this strange feeling.

Sara pulled the armchair closer to mine, and sat there, we were literally about 2 feet away from eachother; just what the heck are we here for anyway? I thought to myself; to be honest, even though I am getting all excited to be in this room with her, I'm still finding it odd for my Dad's therapist to be acting like this around me. Aren't doctors required to keep it professional? Not that she's being totally unprofessional and all, but I just never thought a Doctor can keep it this personal with a patient's relative.

"so.." she sat with her legs spread apart, and her arm resting on her thighs like a teenager would on a casual sit down with a friend- I'm loving her already. And to top it off, in closer distance I could see her tattoos, a perfect circle on her inner wrist, and at the back of it is sort of a drawing of 6 short lines; she's by far the coolest person on earth.

"you might be wondering why we brought you here.." she started. I just sat there, staring back at her and waiting for her to spill her beans. "your Dad wanted me to talk to you about college."

Oh.

"what about?" I said. I was quite disappointed- what was I expecting anyway?

"well.. he asked me to talk to you about a few things, just reminders, and explain them to you if in any case you feel like...Robert is giving you a hard time."

I know Dad isn't the vocal type, but he gets his message across through his actions, and I know he's been dead nervous about me leaving for college.

"he doesn't really have to worry about anything, I'll be good in school.. I promised Mom, and I promised him I'll finish college."

"Robert's pretty confident about that part- he trusts your abilities so much.. but.. see I don't know how to put it without sounding like I'm interfering, but he wants you to not get into trouble, when you're without any close supervision, but what exactly do you think he's talking about?" Sara asked, rather confused- I know "exactly" what Dad was talking about.

"See, they sent me to boarding school for troubled teens for almost 2 years- I didn't kill anyone, but it felt like I was being treated like a criminal." I said, much against my will to tell her something that will tip her off; she's definitely not gonna like me after this. She didn't react though, it's like she already knew, she just laid her arm on the rest and nodded.

"He needs to know that I'm no longer that same kid who will get into petty brawls, or even drugs, or alcohol, I've seen him suffer because of those and I will not let myself succumb to addiction like he did." Sara smiled and relaxed herself, and sighed.

"your Dad really knows you huh. that's what he told me you'd say.." Sara sounds disappointed; she just rested her chin on her knuckles, and her smile faded. "he was scared that he'll get embarrassed when you tell him that, and use his addiction against him." what the fuck? is she playing games on me to let that out my mouth?

"I'm not, I just want to point it out.. that I've seen him suffer because of it, and I'm not going take the same path." I don't mean to make it look like I'm shaming my Dad for what he did. "If there's anyone in this world right now that I care for, more than myself, that's my Father and I'm not ashamed about him going to rehab; in fact I'm proud of him for that because it does take so much in a person to actually WANT to change for the better, and he did not just do it for himself, he did it for us." I must give myself a pat on the back for saying all that without crying.

This time she smiled at me; I guess she's starting to like what she's hearing. Surprisingly she leaned forward and slipped a hand on top of mine and grabbed onto it. I froze on the spot. I can't believe she just did that- is she even allowed to do this though I'm not her patient?

"I believe you Tegan. Now I want you to help me here, and tell your Father he's got nothing to worry about." I don't get it, wouldn't it look like she made me say it, even though I actually mean it? Is it not gonna sound insincere towards my Dad? "he wants you to stay in town..but really, I don't think it's gonna help his recovery if he stays dependent on you." Exactly my point for leaving- she's got this all figured out. "at the same time, you're not getting any younger, and you need to build a future without him, somehow." I was still staring at her hands on top of mine- I still couldn't believe it and she's making it hard for me to keep my attention to what she's saying.

"I love him so much." I said.

Sara slowly rubbed the back of my hand with her thumb. "I know.. and he knows that too"

"Sara, can you be.. honest with me?" I asked her- I was a bit hesitant, and feeling shy to ask her anything, but I went for it anyway. "My Dad, how is he doing?" Sara slowly removed her hands off mine and sat up.

"he's improved.. a few days before he got into rehab.. he was terribly depressed and intoxicated that day, and when I saw him again after he got out, I was surprised. I must say that his progress was because of Rehab, and I feel like I haven't done a lot for him for the past 4 months, so that's also why I agreed to talk to you about him." I'm not sure if she's being humble, or she really thinks she's being an ineffective. I'm under the impression that she's having a hard time getting my Dad to come around; does that make her a bad therapist? or maybe this is one of her techniques?

"I don't usually do this, but for the past 4 months that I worked with your Dad after rehab, he's also become..." she paused "a dear friend.. and I want him to be better, and you're the only person who can help him. See, I'm doing this, not just because it's my job, if I feel like I'm not doing my clients justice, it upsets me, because somehow, these people have opened up to me and trusted me with all their secrets, and I use their own thoughts to make them feel better- it's all on them. I'm just here to help them pull out that strength inside them and make things happen for them." I'd love to think that she saw something in him that she had this much hope for his improvement, but something definitely feels weird about what I just heard.

I know she's a shrink, and if there's someone taking over the wheel in this conversation, it's her. Her words were too flowery, but I can definitely feel sincerity, it's just that, we are all in a vulnerable stage in our lives and anything we do can affect us in the long run; I just hope this therapy session will not lose its purpose at the end of the day. I just gave her a nod- asking myself how the heck am I supposed to confront my Dad about his fear of sending me away without having to gamble my future.


End file.
